


Stayin' Alive, Stayin' Alive

by whichdirection



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: And a good firefighter, Buck is a good friend, F/M, Fluff, I tried not to make it too graphic, Shooting, There is a literal shooting that takes place pls be aware
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24190252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichdirection/pseuds/whichdirection
Summary: What happens when there's a shooting at Capitol Records and Buck forms a special connection with a young woman who was trapped inside?
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Original Character(s), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Reader, Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Comments: 3
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: What's up so this is 3rd person, and it sort of switches locations/POV throughout it from (y/n)/the office to Maddie/the dispatch center, which is marked by **. Time skips will be marked by ~*. Also I wrote this first chapter at 11pm last night so I'm sorry if there are any big mistakes.

**_10 Minutes Before the Shooting_ **

The shining windows of the office building glinted in the harsh LA sunlight. Large white letters spelling out  _ Capitol Records _ proudly faced out towards the rest of downtown. (Y/n) hurried up to the front door, the two large paper-wrapped packages balanced in her arms. Tony, the security guard at the front desk, jumped up to help open the door as she reached it, and checked her in quickly so she could get upstairs. She smiled as she thanked him, despite this being old hat for them at this point. The elevator ride was short and surprisingly quiet, the usual random pop single that would bop from hidden speakers missing from the building’s main form of transport. 

Sunlight blazed through the plate glass windows on the 20th floor as (y/n) exited the elevators and made her way past the receptionist towards Brandon’s desk. There weren't many people in yet, and frankly (y/n) was grateful for it, it was barely 10 and she'd already finished three deliveries. Small talk just wasn't in her today.

“Hey Brandon!” She greeted cheerily, setting the packages down, “Got both of ‘em right here for ya.”

“Oh my gosh! (Y/n)! Thank god!” Brandon cried, hungrily ripping the wrapping off to reveal the two beautifully framed platinum records for the label’s latest releases. “They’re perfect! Thank you for getting it done so quickly!”

(Y/n) smiled, and brushed off Brandon’s compliment. Despite the fact that they’d been forced to rush the order and get it done two days earlier than their original deadline, she knew her bosses wouldn’t want Capitol to think they were ungrateful for the business. Besides, Brandon was always kind to her, and visiting him was the only good part of having to come to Capitol.

“Do you want some coffee before you go?” Brandon offered, “Or do you have other deliveries?”

“Y'know what, I’d love a cup!” (Y/n) agreed, happy to be getting a break so early in the day. (Y/n) let Brandon lead the way, and the two were chatting idly about lives and work right up until the moment when Frankie rushed into the room.

“He’s got a gun! Oh my god he’s got a gun!” Was all they cried as they attempted to crawl into one of the cabinets. Sharing a concerned look with Brandon, (Y/n) was just about to ask Frankie what they meant when the sound of two gunshots followed by screaming killed the words in her mouth. Peeking up out the window of the break room she caught a glimpse of an automatic rifle being held in the air, and the few people in the office scattering in every possible direction.

“Holy shit, what do we do?” Brandon asked, pulling (y/n) to the floor under the table. The two of them crawled to the door, peeking out at the man in a bullet-proof vest. He had at least three visible guns, and stalked around the office in search of some unknown prize. (Y/n)‘s head was spinning, she couldn’t help but think that if she’d just said no to coffee she never would have been in this situation. Frankie's head finally disappeared with the rest of their body into the kitchen cabinet, but neither (y/n) nor Brandon made any move to pull them out.

Caught in a web of what-ifs, (y/n) was pulled back to reality by the sound of more shots being fired: shots being fired in her direction. A scream left her mouth before she knew what was happening, and Brandon’s wide eyes didn’t even have time to close as a bullet grazed the side of his throat and clinked to a stop on the floor behind them. (Y/n) followed him to the floor, hands rushing to hold pressure over the wound as she prayed the guy outside would think the both of them dead for now.

Laying still for what felt like forever, she heard no sound of the man's boots coming toward them. Finally she allowed herself to get up, and her blood-covered hands fumbled to keep the wound covered while tugging her phone from her pocket, dialing without second thought as she held the phone to her ear and tried to clear the tears from her eyes. 

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” The voice asked. Panicked and unsure where to start, (Y/n) could only huff in a few breaths as she stared into the eyes of a choking Brandon. 

“This is 9-1-1, is anyone there? Do you need help?”

“I- uh- yes. Yeah, fuck,” (Y/n) started, taking in a deep breath to steady herself, “I’m on the 20th floor of the Capitol Records building. There is a man with many, many guns here shooting people. I don’t- I don't know how many have been hurt, definitely at least one. I’m touching one.”

******

Across town at the dispatch center, Maddie Buckley swallowed hard, raising her hand to attract the attention of her supervisors. Sue was beelining towards her when she heard the  _ BANG, CRASH _ of what she could only think was a grenade.

“Ma’am are you still there?” She asked, desperate to hear a response.

“Yeah, yeah I’m here. I’m fine, he knocked down the conference room wall somehow, I think people were hiding in there. I can’t tell what he wants.”

“That’s alright ma’am, you don’t need to know what he wants. Can you tell me your name?”

“(Y/n), I’m (Y/n).” 

“(Y/n), I’m Maddie. Are you somewhere safe?” She could hear Sue motioning for others, and calling in RA units and SWAT along with the usual FD and PD teams.

“I’m in the break room. Frankie won’t get out of the cabinet. And... And... Brandon’s here too he... he got shot I-I don’t know what to do, what do I do?”

******

“Okay, okay find cloth and make a dressing. I can do that.” (Y/n) whispered after listening to Maddie’s instructions. “Brandon! Brandon! Press down.” He groaned pathetically underneath her as she forced his hand onto his neck so she could jump up and grab a jacket and scissors from the table they had been happily chatting at barely 3 minutes ago. Her new vantage point granted her a new view of the room outside, several lights had been shattered and dust filled the air from the partially collapsed conference room wall. She could see someone not too far from the break room door, and instantly a plan started forming in her mind. 

Returning to the floor, she quickly cut off one sleeve of the jacket, and slipped the sleeve around Brandon’s neck, wrapping it tightly. 

“I- I don’t think he can hold enough pressure.” She spoke into the phone.

“That’s okay, you can do it for him. Help is on the way, they’ll be there soon.” Maddie assured her.

“Yeah but, when I got up, I saw someone else, right outside. I think I could pull them in here, I don’t see the guy.”

“No! No! (Y/n), you don’t need to do that, professionals are coming, they’re going to handle everything, you just look after yourself and Brandon.”

Shaking her head, (Y/n) snatched up a pen from the counter beside her, twisting the ends of the sleeve with it until the pressure over Brandon’s neck was better. “Brandon! Hold onto this, do you hear me?” She guided his hand to the pen and he gripped it as best he could, “Don’t let it unwind, and don’t move! Okay? I’ll be right back! Maddie I'm going to get him."

"(Y/n) you need to stay where you are."

"I can't just leave him out there to die Maddie."

******

“What is this girl doing? Who does she think she is? G.I. Jane?” Josh asked, incredulous as the girl on Maddie’s line informed them she was going to check on someone else.

“She’s probably so full of adrenaline she doesn’t even realize she’s putting herself in danger,” Maddie replied, “My brother’s a lot like that, rushing in the save people.” 

“Yeah well, I just hope it doesn’t get her killed.”

******

(Y/n) made it out the door and behind the nearest desk before she realized the person she saw through the window was now at least 10 feet further away. “He’s crawling,” she whispered to Maddie.

“Does he seem to be injured at all?” She replied.

Glancing sidelong at the trail of blood the man was leaving on the floor, (Y/n) swallowed and said “Definitely.”

“Try to stop him from moving if you can, we don’t know where he was injured and he could be causing more damage by moving around.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” Swallowing again and trying to ignore the streak of red she was next to, (Y/n) crawled up to the old man, trying to get his attention. “Hey! Hey! Stop! Sir, please stop moving!” 

“What the hell do you know? I’m getting the hell out of here before that man comes back!” He spat back at her, still trying to pull himself along the floor with his elbows. (Y/n)‘s eyes glided down him as he did so, noticing that his legs weren’t moving at all.

“Where were you shot?” She demanded, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“My stomach,” He replied angrily.

“Can you move your legs?” She asked. He huffed at this, and stopped struggling against her.

“No.” He said finally.

(Y/n) pulled her phone back towards her, “Maddie what do I do? Should I pull him somewhere? He’s in the middle of the room...”

“No! No, don’t try to move him anymore than you have to! Are you by a desk?”

“Yeah, why?”

“If you can do so without moving him too much, pull him under a desk, but try not to move his neck too much, okay?”

“Okay, should I like tape something to his head like they do on TV?” She asked, glancing at a few binders and boxes on the nearby desks.

“No, you don’t need to do that, the police are almost there, alright? Just try to get him out of sight in case the man comes back.”

“Okay.” (Y/n) set her phone down on the desk next to them and turned to the man. “I have to pull you under the desk and then after that you’re not supposed to move.”

“To hell with that! Pull me to the elevator! Let’s get out of here!” He cried, starting to swat away her attempts to pull him towards the desk.

“The elevators are probably off by now, the fire alarm went off when the wall came down and that shuts them off. Besides, if I did that you’d probably be paralyzed by the time we got downstairs.” She replied. This seemed enough to convince him to stay put, and she carefully tugged him between two desks.

“If you’re playing superhero then you’ll probably want to pull that woman out from under the wall in the conference room next.” He said once they’d gotten him situated.

“OUT FROM UNDER WHAT?” She whisper-screamed at him, snatching her phone up and racing toward the conference room with little regard for the fact that the man with the guns could be anywhere. Her mind was moving at a million miles a minute by now, her heart rate and the fire alarm banging in her ears. “Maddie did you hear that?”

******

“I heard it. I assume you’re going there next?” Maddie replied, tapping her coms over to dispatch after receiving confirmation. “Guys, what’s your eta? We have at least five civilians in the 20th floor office, three injured!”

“We’re here Maddie, they just won’t let us in!” Chimney’s voice echoed through her ears and she felt her throat tighten at the fact that he would be so close to an active shooting, “SWAT needs to clear the building first, they won’t let anyone close.”

Maddie switched herself back over to (Y/n)’s call at the sound of yelling.

******

“Maddie, I can hear him.” (Y/n) whispered, from her new place in the half-destroyed conference room she could glimpse the CEO’s office at the end of the hall. Through the window on the door it became obvious that the rest of the people in this building were insignificant collateral for the gunman, his real target was in that room. “He’s here for the CEO. Mad about something,  _ ha _ , well clearly.” Turning her attention to the two other people in the room with her, she relayed the information to Maddie: one man with his leg pinned by the wall, and one woman trapped from the chest down.

“Try to find something to use as a lever, that way you can lift the wall and free them from underneath it, okay?”

“I can do that!” She said, placing her phone on speaker mode between the people and prying off a loose piece of wood from the inside of the wall. Jamming it in the space under the wall she pushed down as hard as she could, and the man quickly pulled his leg out. Barely a breath later, the two of them worked as a team to lift the wall enough for (Y/n) to pull the woman out from under the wall. “We got her!” (Y/n) cried as she finally tugged the woman away far enough for the man to let the wall fall free. 

“Congratulations.” Came a cold voice.

Her eyes darted up just as the gunman fired, hitting the man in the leg and causing him to crumple to the ground. (Y/n)‘s hands shot up instantly as her eyes locked with the gunman’s.

“Please! Don’t!” She cried, “You got what you came for! Just go! Before the cops get here! Please! Killing me would just be a waste of time!  _ Please! They’re not here yet 911 told me so! Go now before they get here! _ ” 

The man considered this as (Y/n) continued begging, glancing out the window to just in time to see a cop car racing down the road towards them. Deciding to believe her, he sneered and darted away towards the stairs. 

Mind racing, (Y/n) scrambled over Lisa to reach the man and hold pressure over his gunshot. “Sir? Are you awake? Please be awake!” He made no sign of answering her and she racked her brain to remember if that meant she was supposed to start cpr. 

“Lisa,” (Y/n) asked the woman, “How about you, are you awake?”

“I’m, I’m awake.” She replied softly.

“Good, that's good. That’s good, right Maddie?” (Y/n) called towards her phone.

“That’s very good!” Maddie called back, “Are they both awake?”

“Lisa is, but this man isn’t. I- I don’t know his name!”

“Okay, can you feel a pulse? He might have hit his head on the way down so he could just have a concussion.”

(Y/n) pressed her fingers into the man’s neck, feeling nothing. Gasping, she pressed her ear to his chest and listened, still there was nothing.

“No! I don't! I-I‘m supposed to do cpr now right?”

“That’s right, do you know how to do compressions?” Maddie asked, pulling up the cpr protocols.

“Yeah, a- a fireman certified me back in high school.” She called back, beginning to press hard and fast into the man’s chest. Glancing over at Lisa she noticed the woman’s eyes shut and shouted “Lisa! Lisa! Wake up!”

Lisa’s eyes blinked open, turning towards (Y/n), “Yes, dear?”

“You have to stay awake! Uhh, do you know the song “Staying Alive”? The BeeGees song? Can you sing it with me?” (Y/n) asked. 

Lisa coughed and nodded weakly, “Ahh, ahh ahh-”

“Stayin alive, stayin alive!” (Y/n) joined in, continuing to pump the man’s chest to the beat of the song.

_ Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive. _

The gunman was intercepted by SWAT barely two floors down, and went down in a barrage of shots. A few moments later, SWAT finally gave the all clear, and the 118 rushed into the building with their gear alongside the other gathered first responders. 

_ Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin alive, stayin’ alive. _

20 flights of stairs later and LAFD burst through the stairwell doors to begin evacuation and medical treatment. Calling out to survivors, and pulling apart hastily piled desk shelters, they began evacuating the people who could still walk, and tagging the few that had passed. 

_ Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive. _

Brandon was loaded up on a gurney and transported down alongside the old man, who was starting to regain feeling to his legs. Finally, the crew reached the back of the office floor, and rounded the corner to the conference room with the missing wall.

“Do you hear singing?” Buck asked Eddie as they approached.

_ Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive.  _

“Woah! Woah! Hey! Hen, Chim get back here!” Buck cried, pulling off his helmet as he dropped to his knees beside the young woman singing as she pressed into the collapsed man's chest. She didn't even acknowledge the team's presence as Buck sat next to her and Eddie moved around the trio to Lisa, checking her over and attaching a c-spine collar when Chim tossed him one.

“Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive. Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive, stayin alive. Ah, ha, ha-“

“Hey, hey can you hear me?” Buck began gently, reaching out a gloved hand to touch the woman lightly on the shoulder. Suddenly snapped out of her trance, the woman’s head shot up and the song abruptly stopped. Her eyes trained for a moment on an empty spot outside the room before they darted back down to settle on Buck’s. Hen checked for a pulse and resumed compressions as Buck lightly pulled the woman’s hands away from the man and urged her to sit still.

“Chim? Chim! Howie! Is that you? Hello?” A distant voice called. The woman produced her cellphone, holding it out to the man in front of her.

"I think this is for you." She said when he didn't immediately take the phone. Finally Buck took it from her hands, recognizing after a beat that it was his sister on the other end of the call.

“Maddie? Yeah Chimney’s here. We’re all good. Only a few casualties, plenty of injured though.” He chatted idly, a hand still on the woman’s arm to keep her still, “Do you know what this woman’s name is?”

"(Y/n)" The woman said for herself while Maddie supplied,

“Her name is (Y/n). She saved at least five people there today Buck.“ Maddie continued after a beat, "Evan, she had to convince the guy not to kill her.” Buck drew in a sharp breath at this, thanking his sister and hanging up the phone after promising to take care of (Y/n).

“Hey, (Y/n), I’m Evan Buckley, I’m a firefighter, I’m here to help.” He handed her her phone back and she took it numbly.

"Evan, nice to meet you." She said, smiling weakly.

“What do you say to some fresh air? Hm, wanna get out of here?” She nodded, gripping his arms to start to pull herself up. Buck nodded at Eddie, who moved to grab her elbow. Flinching only slightly when he made contact, (Y/n) leaned into Eddie's touch to get to her feet. As she rose the ground suddenly began spinning underneath at the sight of Lisa and the man both carted away, but she waved off the two firefighters' support. Buck shucked off his coat quickly and wrapped it around (Y/n)'s shoulders, insisting that she keep it for the time being as he knew the heavy object would help with the woman's shock. After a moment of regaining her balance, she nodded at the two of them and walked out of the building with them close at hand. 

**~***

The solid ground of the parking lot felt hot beneath her feet as Buck tried to guide her into a folding chair under a green tent. She shook her head at the chair, insisting she was fine to stay standing. “Okay, but keep my coat. And I’m going to put this tag around your neck alright? Just so everyone knows you’re okay.”

“That's fine,” She answered, ducking her head to help him slip the green tag around her. “Thank you, Evan. For coming.” 

“Of course ma’am, that’s what I do.” He smiled, “And from what I hear you didn’t really need us anyways, you saved a ton of people all on your own.”

"No, I-I didn't do anything, not really." She insisted. "Nothing anyone else wouldn't have done."

"No way! That old man is going to walk again because of you! And Lisa would have been crushed by that wall if you hadn't gotten her out from under it!" Buck gestured at all the other people in the green and yellow tents surrounding them, a huge smile on his face, "You're a hero!"

At this her face dropped and her knees gave out, Buck’s arms sliding around her waist on instinct to catch her, and they both slid to the pavement as she broke down into tears. Hen rushed over from her place a few beds down, but Buck shook his head at her as he wrapped his arms tighter around her. Hot, wet tears slid down (Y/n)‘s cheeks onto his t-shirt and she clung to him, nails digging in as if she suddenly needed it to survive.

“It was horrible!” She cried into his shoulder, “So horrible!”

Buck stayed with her until she calmed down, rubbing her back with his hand and assuring her that it was all over now. That she was safe. When her eyes finally dried, (Y/n) pulled back from Buck’s arms, instantly embarrassed to have broken down in public like that. No matter how many times he said it was fine, she still apologized repeatedly. When an officer came to drive her to the station so she could give her statement she hugged Buck one last time and thanked him again, for everything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been 3 days since the shooting, and things have started returning to normal for those affected by the shooting. But what does normal look like?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter, sorry!  
> I wanted something to just reinforce the relationship and give more background on OC.

**_3 Days Since The Shooting_ **

(Y/n) was fine. Except for the not sleeping, the barely eating, the going to therapy, and the dealing with cops and lawyers now. It was fine. Really, her therapist assured her that she “was doing as well as could be expected after such a traumatic event”. Besides, today was not about last Monday. Today was about her future.

She got up and brushed her teeth like normal. Ate her breakfast like normal, got in her car like normal. She met with her grad thesis advisor like normal, and very much not like normal he introduced her to the mayor of Los Angeles. She was still trying to figure out a way to not freak out about meeting him as she was reaching forward to shake his hand. 

The project she was starting today was going to change her life, jump start her career, and (her therapist assured her) give her the means to work past her trauma. Today, as she was led around city hall and they went over the details of the upcoming exhibit, her smile was genuine.

Today, as the mayor himself told her how much this project meant to him, she didn’t think of the cold, empty eyes of the gunman.

Today, as she was given permission to begin the final project of her grad school career, the BeeGees didn’t echo in her head like a broken record.

**~***

Two calls before noon meant the entire team was hangry. Buck and Chim especially wouldn’t stop bickering, much to the chagrin of Captain Nash. As the engine backed into the garage, everyone was grateful to have at least a little time to eat and unwind. 

Leading the pack in mounting the stairs to the kitchen and the promise of food, Buck’s eyes suddenly caught sight of a familiar face he hadn’t expected to see. While it wasn’t unusual for grateful people to send cards, food, and money to the station as their thanks, Buck had never had a previous call show up like this before. The sight of (Y/n) on the couch in the lounge area, chatting idly with another of his coworkers, diverted Buck from his long-awaited lunch.

“(Y/n)!” He called as he approached, nodding off the coworker who thankfully took the hint.

“E-Evan!” (Y/n) breathed in surprise, suddenly remembering the number from his jacket and hat, “118, right. Hi!”

“Hey! Good to see you again, how are you doing?”

“I’m good, I guess! How’re you?”

“I’m good!” He smiled, feeling the need to get to the bottom of her visit, “Listen, I know this is all fresh, but you can’t exactly just turn up at the firehouse like this...” He began, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand as he realized this might get embarrassing.

“Oh!” She laughed, “No, I’m not, I’m not here for you.” She said, blushing suddenly as Buck’s expression changed, “Sorry...”

“No! No! It’s fine!” He assured her, joining in her laughter. “Then... why?”

“For work!”

“Work? I thought you worked at Capitol?”

“At-“ She stopped short of repeating him, the name getting caught in her throat. She coughed slightly, shaking her head before saying, “No! I uh... I work at a framing store.”

“A framing store?” Buck was instantly confused and sure that (Y/n) was lying about why she was there.

“Yeah, we frame things.... Like, pictures and... platinum records... for...”

“Okay, sure. So you’re? Framing something for the station?” He asked, trying not to notice the rest of the team eavesdropping.

“No, sorry, I’m- I wasn’t expecting to see you. I'm not explaining this well. Let me start over,” She squished her eyes shut for a moment, taking a breath and pulling out a folder from her backpack to hand to him. “I’m a Library and Information Sciences grad student at UCLA, I was hired by the city to put together an archival exhibit of the city’s fire stations for an event at the end of the year.”

“An event?” Buck asked, suddenly confused as he flipped open the folder to see a lot of complex words about archiving that he had no hope of understanding.

“Yeah, what event? We haven’t heard anything!” Chimney called from the table.

“They haven’t announced it yet,” (Y/n) explained, “After everything the fire department had done this year, the tsunami and earthquake and everything, they wanted to highlight all the good you guys have done for the city throughout its history. Celebrate you guys and all your hard work. Problem is no one was keeping records, so they need someone to put together the archives for the exhibit.” 

“And they chose you?” Chimney asks.

“Yeah! It's going to be a lot of fun! I get to visit each house and put together a timeline!” (Y/n) smiled cheerfully, turning back to Buck as the rest of the team exchanged looks that screamed  _ that's what she thinks is fun? _ “Do you know where Captain Nash is?”

“Yeah, yeah he’s in his office, I can take you there.” He says, offering a hand to help you up from the couch.

**~***

"I'm sorry this is all we have, it's a little unorganized." Bobby supplied as he gestured to the files in the back of his office.

"No! This is great! I won't be starting from nothing," She cheered as she pulled out a file labeled  _ Roster, 1960s _ , "Plus any names can be great leads for stories and photos!"

"Seems like you've got a lot of work on your hands here, you said you were going to every station in the city?"

"Yup, that's the plan! City Hall has a lot of records, but things like this often haven't been digitized yet so the stations are the only place to get them!'

"So you're going to all 174 stations in the city to look at the names of dead guys?" Buck interjected, unable to keep quiet as he watched (Y/n) and Bobby pull folders from a filing cabinet.

"Yeah, I'm just here to pick stuff up, I'll be back with it in a few days after I get it all digitized." (Y/n) gave Buck a once over as she placed the folders into storage boxes, he looked tense as he gripped the back of a chair and stared at her. Frankly, seeing him at all was putting her on edge, reminding her of the events that took place on Monday, the way she started sobbing into his shoulder when he called her a hero. She hadn't felt like one then, and she still didn't now. Something in her had clicked on in that moment, had driven her to help those people. She didn't regret her actions, well maybe she did a little bit when it was 3am and she couldn't close her eyes without remembering the look on the man's face as he pointed a gun at her, but most of the time she was more than happy to have done what she did.

"Well," Bobby said, snapping (Y/n) out of her reprieve and forcing her to realize she and Buck had just been staring at one another for an extended period of time, "let us know if you need any more help with anything. We'd be happy to be of assistance."

"Yeah! Thanks!" She said, closing the lid on the final box and taking in how heavy it was going to be, "Actually, Evan, could you help me bring these to my car?"

"Evan?" (Y/n) heard Bobby say under his breath as Buck agreed and grabbed two boxes easily. He made his way out of the room with purpose, despite having no idea what car was (Y/n)'s. In the moment they were alone, (Y/n) turned to Bobby and quickly inquired,

"Is his name not Evan?"

"No, no, it is." Bobby said quickly, seeing the embarrassment and panic on her face, "He goes by Buck though, the team gave him the nickname."

"Oh, got it, okay. Thanks again for your help Captain Nash." He nodded to her and held open the office door so she could chase after Buck, who had not waited and was instead standing in the middle of the parking lot looking at all of the cars.

"It's this one," (Y/n) supplied, ushering the man to her small car and popping the trunk. Buck placed his two boxes and the one she was holding- which he took directly from her hands- into the back, which made her laugh, "Thanks for your help Evan, or should I say Buck?"

He chuckled a little at that, "Either one works, they're both my name."

"But you prefer Buck?"

"Uhh, yeah I guess so, more people call me that than Evan."

"Okay, Buck it is. Thank you very much for your help, Buck." She smiled, and Buck was amazed at how put together she seemed after only 3 days. 3 days after the truck came down on top of him he still wasn't sleeping much, but (Y/n) was either really good at putting up a front or she really was doing alright. Still, Buck seemed moved to say,

"Listen, I uhh... I know you might not want to talk about it, especially to me... I'm uh, I'm sure I remind you of it but if you ever wanted to talk about what happened on Monday, well I've been through similar stuff so I guess what I'm saying is you can talk to me." The color in Buck's cheeks as he stumbled through his offer was reflected in (Y/n)'s own as she swallowed hard to keep her composure at the thought of Monday. The pair laughed awkwardly and (Y/n) accepted Buck's phone number, "Also if you need any help with any of this archive stuff, you know tracking people down and stuff."

(Y/n) nodded again, assuring Buck that she'd let him know if she needed a firefighter p.i. for anything. After another slightly awkward pause, the two hugged in goodbye, and Buck headed back inside to face the music of his eavesdropping friends as (Y/n) drove off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: So I uhhhhh didn’t realize at all that people might actually want to read this, but then I saw some very lovely comments so I decided that since I already had these next two chapters written I would post them while I work on more! Thank you very much if you commented, you’ve inspired me to continue ❤️
> 
> Also! There’s some texting at the end of this, so I put a description of the emojis used in the texts just in case people can’t see them/whatever. I didn’t do that for Buck’s name in the OC’s phone, which is “Evan 🦌” (the deer emoji, y’know, like a Buck?)

**_ 10 Days Since The Shooting _ **

"911 what is your emergency?"

"You gotta send someone! The microwave! It just caught fire!"

** ~* **

Returning to the house after a successful call always helped with team morale. "Alright, Buck, Eddie, start chopping the veg while the rest of us load up the gear, we'll meet you up there," Bobby ordered as they unloaded the rig. Nodding and leaving their coats in their lockers, the pair headed up the stairs to the kitchen.

Half way through the second carrot, Buck's phone began buzzing in his pocket, and he quickly fished the object out to see the caller ID:  _ (Y/N). _

“Hey! (Y/n), what’s up?” He spoke as he answered the call, ignoring the way Eddie’s eyebrows shot up at her name.

“Hey Ev-Buck, I’m outside actually I was wondering if you could help me bring these boxes back in?” She replied casually, waving when she saw Buck peek down at her through the window.

“Yeah of course! I’ll be right down!” He said, hanging up and shooting Eddie an apologetic look as he hustled down the stairs again.

She met him with a smile and a box in her arms, and he gladly scooped up the other two for her. Buck made her promise to show the team her current draft of the timeline before she left, which she readily agreed to. Though the walk was short, as they mounted the stairs back up to the team he couldn’t help but notice how tired she looked when she wasn’t smiling up at him.

“Everyone! You remember (Y/n)!” Buck announced as they set the boxes down by the couch.

"Not really," Chimney mumbled.

“Of course, Ms. (Y/l/n), very good to see you again so soon,” Bobby called from his station behind the stove.

“Hi Captain Nash, good to see you too!”

“I got us a private showing of the exhibit about us (Y/n) is putting together, c’mon guys come check it out,” Buck waved his friends over to the couches. The team gathered around her as she explained it wasn’t about  _ them _ exactly, though most of the recent stuff featured them. Walking them through the design plan for the interactive timeline exhibit, (Y/n) got the chance to introduce herself properly to the entire station, and it wasn't long before she was joining in on jokes and coaxing stories from them all.

“Wow, this is really all amazing. And you have so much done already, how do you find the time?” Chimney asked as he looked at the partial timeline for the 118.

“Oh, haha I really don’t!” She insists, “There are 174 of you guys and only three of us working on this project so, we have a lot of late nights ahead of us!”

“Well then we better make sure you’re well fed before we let you get back to work,” Bobby said as the timer on the stove began to beep, “Please, stay for lunch with us, we have plenty of food.”

“Oh, no I don’t want to intrude, I really just came to return these files...”

“No, I insist, really,” Bobby pressed.

“Yeah, honestly we’ll probably get called out within like, 5 minutes of sitting down, so you won’t have to put up with us for too long,” Chimney joked. The team laughed and agreed that that was usually how things went on a weekday. Finally (Y/n) agreed, setting down her things and slipping into a chair next to Chimney. Surprisingly, the bell didn't ring while the group ate, and (Y/n) only insisted on getting up twice to write down stories. At the end of the meal, after having her offer to help clean refused, (Y/n) started packing her things only to be interrupted by the Captain once more. 

“You know, if you wanted to stick around the station to get stories and photos, we can get someone to give you a tour.” He offered as he picked up one of the boxes from beside the stairs, “I actually think I found an old photo album you’ll want to see anyways.”

“Of the station? I would love to see!” She replied, tossing her bag back down on the couch.

“I’ll have Buck bring it up to you,” Bobby said to the surprised looking Buck, “After he helps me bring these files downstairs where they belong.” Rolling his eyes but dutifully scooping up the boxes once more, Buck followed the Captain to his office to store the borrowed files, returning a few minutes later with the photo album in hand.

“So, what do you say we take a look at all these dead guys?” He said, delighted at her laughter, "Then I can show you around."

"I'd love that."

** ~* **

“And Red said that’s why he never went back into a department store,” Buck finished his story with a flourish, leaving (Y/n) out of breath with laughter.

“And you believed him?” She giggled, laughing even more at the fake offended look that overcame his features. 

“Hey! Now that’s no way to talk about an officer of the LAFD!” He quipped, “Red was an amazing man and firefighter, he-“

Suddenly the entire station spurred into action, the bell ringing and announcement of RA and Ladder units to an address nearby signaling the end of (Y/n)‘s time reminiscing with Buck. 

“Saved by the bell I guess, see you later (Y/n),” He announced, squeezing her shoulder before hopping off down the stairs to grab his gear.

“See you,” She smiled at his back, watching at the crew loaded up and took off like the well-oiled machine they were. Gathering her things, she said goodbye to the few firefighters left at the station and loaded up her car to go return things to the next station on her list.

It was a few hours later that her phone buzzed with a text, then quickly with a second, 

** Evan 🦌: good to see you today **

** Evan 🦌: glad ur project is going so well **

_ (Y/n): good to see you too! _

_ (Y/n): thanks for all the stories, from you and the crew, was a lot of fun to meet everyone formally _

** Evan 🦌: we're full of stories **

** Evan 🦌: let me know if there's ever anything i can help with **

_ (Y/n): well you've been a big help already, all your stories are really great _

** Evan 🦌: I can help with other stuff too **

_ (Y/n): like what? _

** Evan 🦌: lifting things? **

** Evan 🦌: 💪🏼💪🏼👨🏼🚒 [Two flexing arm emojis, Firefighter emoij] **

_ (Y/n):  _ 😂😂😂 _ [Three crying while laughing emojis] I'll keep that in mind, thanks _

** Evan 🦌: are you tho? **

_ (Y/n): keeping that in mind? I promise you'll be my first call should I need to move anything heavy Evan _

** Evan 🦌: good, but no I meant are you doing alright? **

_ (Y/n): oh _

_ (Y/n): yeah, I'm fine _

_ (Y/n): Did I not seem fine? _

** Evan 🦌: no! that's not what I meant! **

** Evan 🦌: just wanted to check in! **

_ (Y/n): I'm fine, so says my therapist _

** Evan 🦌: haha well they know best **

** Evan 🦌: sorry, didn't mean to overstep, i just know these things can be rough **

_ (Y/n): I’m good, really.  _

** Evan 🦌: good **

As sweet as it was, Buck’s messages were enough to put (Y/n) off her dinner. Had she not seemed alright? The last thing she wanted was people thinking she couldn’t handle the things in her life, her classes and her job and her  _ project.  _ God, she didn’t know what she would do if she got taken off this project. Why was it that this random firefighter seemed to have the ability to look right through her?

She busied herself with schoolwork and scanning the photo album from the 118 into the shared server, not even noticing as the hours ticked away towards midnight. It wasn’t until her phone harshly against the wood of her desk that she glanced outside and noticed the world had gone dark.

** Evan 🦌: Chamomile tea always helps me when I can’t sleep...just in case that’s a problem you’re having **

**

Buck wasn't even sure why he’d sent it, and the second he had he’d wanted to take it back. There were any number of reasons why she might’ve looked tired this morning, it didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t sleeping because of the shooting. There was just  _ something about her _ , about the way she was holding herself at lunch; something familiar and not entirely good.

So he’d sent it. Their conversation had been stilted and way beyond over, but as he settled into bed for the night he found himself staring at the ceiling, thinking not about her, but about himself.

Hospitals are shit places to spend the night, but especially when you’re broken and beaten and have refused pain meds. But usually when you are broken and beaten and refusing pain meds, the effort to stay awake all day telling people you’re fine exhausts you enough that you fall asleep easily. No, Buck had had no problem falling asleep in the hospital after the crash, the problems had some after. Alone in his apartment, sleeping on his own couch, seven feet below his bed... it was nearly impossible, especially at first. At first it was nearly impossible to close his eyes without feeling the pressure of the truck starting to collapse onto him again. In those moments, more than anything, he’d  _ wished _ he was back in the hospital, with the scratchy sheets and the beeping machines and the  _ noise _ . Then he’d discovered chamomile tea.

The woman at the shop had been so nice. Buck had snuck away from his sister at the grocery store, and bee-lined on his crutches toward the drug section in search of some kind of sleep aid. As he grabbed onto the ZZquil, unsure how he’d carry it and crutch back to his sister, a voice broke through his reverie.

“Try some chamomile tea dear,” she’d said, “with just a touch of honey. Warms the soul and calms the mind.”

Buck hadn’t believed her, just nodded and crutched away. But a few days later when the ZZquil had failed him, he texted Maddie asking if she had any, and it had worked.

He wanted desperately to be wrong about (Y/n)‘s difficulty sleeping, but there was something in his saying he wasn’t, and he wanted to help.

So risky texts be damned.

He was going to help her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again if you commented! (I also didn't really proof-read this so sorry for any mistakes, lemme know if something totally doesn't make any sense)


	4. Chapter 4

**_ 16 Days Since The Shooting _ **

She knew she shouldn't be there, she knew he was at work. Texting with Buck was fun and easy, he was almost always awake when (Y/n) was this last week due to his turn on the night shift. He was always saying he would be there if she needed something, and frankly, at 4am when she couldn't find solace in late night TV or podcasts, she didn't know what else to do. 

They had been texting regularly for almost a week now, and Buck had caught on that her sleep schedule wasn’t exactly what most people would call healthy immediately. Between classes, work, and this project, it was amazing to him she had any free time at all, and he was flattered she used it to talk to him. That was, until he remembered that  _ he  _ wasn’t the reason she was up until 3 most nights. But he didn’t want to push her, he knew that nightmares and ptsd didn’t just go away after something as huge as what happened to her. He also knew, from experience, that throwing yourself into work was usually the most readily available coping mechanism. So he tiptoed gently around the subject, suggesting more sleeping cures and pushing chamomile tea at her insistently.

As much as he enjoyed the way (Y/n) humored him texting her things like  ** “Pulled a guy’s hand out of the garbage disposal today, is that important enough to make the exhibit?”  ** and the way she joked with him that she was on her way over when he offered to cook her a midnight omelet, he never expected to hear someone call out, “Buck! Got a visitor!” at 4 am.

Pulling himself off the couch to lean over the railing, he almost couldn’t believe that it was actually her. She blushed at the sudden attention she attracted from the firehouse, hurrying on her way to the mezzanine. The graveyard shift left plenty to be desired in the way of entertainment, and the folks at 118 hadn’t seen Buck get company this late since he first joined the station. He cringed internally at the memory, not wanting the rest of the guys to think he’d fallen back into old habits. It wasn’t like with (Y/n).

"Hey (y/n), what's going on?" Buck called down to her. He couldn't help but notice the way her shoulders drooped heavily towards the floor, or the bags under her eyes that her smile couldn't distract him from. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah, everything's fine!" She lied as she hugged him hello, leaning into his strong frame a little too much. "Figured you could use some company, and I could use a break from work, that's all."

“Uh, alright,” He chuckled as he stepped away and they both sat down on the couch, “I’m just working on some reports right now, but we can play a video game or something if you want?”

“Oh!” She gasped, “No, no! I didn’t realize you were working on something important.” She blushed as she reprimanded herself in her head, _of course he was doing something important, he was important._ “I can go return this album to Captain Nash’s office in that case.”

Buck was about to protest, explain that the report on the ladder truck’s condition- excellent- wasn’t that important and was in fact just a way to keep him awake for the last two hours of his shift; but she was up and halfway down the stairs before he could get a word out. He wasn’t even sure if she was going to come back, in fact he had a half a mind to stand at the railing staring out over the firehouse to catch her in the act of running away so he could stop her.

Just as he was thinking of getting up, however, he heard footsteps on the stairs again and glanced up to see her nervous expression.

“People are, uh, looking at me weird?” She posed.

Buck’s eyes shot open with embarrassment, flaring even wider when the only thing his mouth could supply was, “Yeah they probably just think you’re my girlfriend.”

“Oh!” Was all she said, her cheeks flushing as a hand came up to rub the back of her neck. She really didn’t know what else to say to that, especially when realized she didn’t know what to make of the small flurry of butterflies that erupted in her chest at his words.

The pair just stared at each other for a moment, until the stillness of 4am intruded on the awkwardness of the situation. (Y/n) gave a single, sharp nod and then made her way back to the couch next to Buck. She’s brought work with her, she didn’t think she’d be able to just hang out with him the entire time. Buck likewise turned his attention back to the form in his hands, and spent 20 minutes working on three boxes until he couldn’t take it anymore and he stood with a little too must force.

“I’m,” He yelled, wincing and adjusting his volume immediately, “uh, I’m going to get something to drink do you want thing? Water? Coffee? Tea?”

At the mention of tea, (Y/n)’s ears perked up. Despite being up almost constantly, she hadn’t gotten around to going to the grocery store and so every time he’d suggested chamomile tea like it was the holy grail, she’d had to inform him rather lamely that she still hadn’t gone shopping yet.

“We have chamomile,” he said, reading her mind. She gave nodded, smiling as she watched him walk across the mezzanine. She forced herself to look back down at her papers before he turned though, not wanting to get caught looking at the way his shoulder muscles moved under the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

He brewed the tea as quickly as he could, returning to (Y/n) and placing the steaming mug into her hands with a warning about how hot it was.

“Well that’s alright,” she joked, “I mean if you’re gonna get burned a firehouse is the best place to do it, right?”

He chuckled, and the two spiraled off into conversation about nothing in particular. It was fun and easy and soon it was close to 5am. Cursing himself in advance for the way he was about to ruin things, Buck couldn’t help himself from saying,

“So when was the last time you slept?”

She let out a harsh breath and averted her gaze immediately, taking a moment before replying, “At all? I got a few hours here and there last night.”

“But the last time you slept through the night....”

“Was be- before the....” She trailed off, taking a sip of her tea to try to calm the tightening in her throat. God, she couldn’t even _say the word_ , let alone have a conversation about it. Avoidance was going so good, even her therapist said she was well adjusted. What was it about _this guy_ that broke through her carefully constructed facade?

Buck’s hand found its way to her knee, rubbing comforting circles on the side as he said, “You don’t have to say it.” She nodded, and Buck started when he noticed tears forming in her eyes.

Quickly he snatched the mug from her grasp and set it on the coffee table in front of them, leaning back to swiftly wrap his arms around her. He could tell how embarrassed crying had made her the first time they’d met, and he could only imagine her mortification if she was greeted by the shift change as she sobbed into his shoulder. But he wasn’t about to stop her from letting her emotions out, from talking to him about how she was feeling. As much as he’d hated Bobby sending him to therapy, he had to admit how much comfort it had brought him to just have someone else listen and tell him his feelings were real and understandable.

“I keep seeing his face,” she whispered against his collarbone, shuddering at the memory and burying her face further into his chest. She was so embarrassed to be crying his arms, _again_. She was just tired, so so tired. Tired of telling herself she was okay. Tired of telling other people.

Everywhere she went, everyone she saw, the same look in all of their eyes haunted her when the gunman’s didn’t. It wasn’t pity, exactly, just _knowledge._ They knew who she was, what she’d been through. No one ever wanted to say anything past “I’m so sorry”, but she could see it in their eyes. Then there was Evan, Buck she corrected herself, who couldn’t seem to stop talking to her, about it and everything else. He didn’t have that look in his eyes, not exactly. His eyes didn’t hold the knowledge of her story, they held the knowledge of his. He’d told her bits and pieces of his history, and she’d read even more in the reports of the 118’s recent major calls. He wasn’t just sorry in theory, when he said it it was real. It was the kind of sorry that only came from lived experience.

So she cried. She buried her head into his shoulder and cried.

“I just really want to sleep,” she laughed through a sob. “I just really want to sleep but I can’t, nothing works.”

“We’ll find something,” He said, his voice so sure she had to pull away and look at him.

“What?”

“I get off the night shift at the end of the week, so my nights will be free again. We can run an experiment,” The more he talked, the better his idea felt to him, even if she looked skeptical at best. He smiled at her, and she used the edge of her jacket sleeve to wipe her face as she settled into the back of the couch next to him.

“We’ll find something?”

“Yeah, He guaranteed, “We’ll find something."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I didn't really have the opportunity to proof this, so if you notice something super fishy feel free to drop a comment or message!


End file.
